


summer solstice

by iihappydaysii



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Witch Curses, it's claire idea so..., jamie is married to claire, john and jamie are good to each other, just in the sense of the curse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: Jamie runs afoul of a witch who curses him. If he doesn’t have sex with a man, he’ll die. Fortunately he knows someone who just might be willing to help him with that.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey
Comments: 23
Kudos: 239





	summer solstice

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning this is focused on jamie/john but i decided to tag jamie/claire as well because they are married/together in this as they are in canon.

Claire Fraser had seen and heard a lot of impossible things in her life, but this one just might take the cake. At least it would win the award for most creative way to ruin her life.

“A curse?” She huffed. “That’s ludicrous.”

“I wish that it were, but we both ken there are things in this earth far beyond our understanding.” Jamie frowned. “And this witch, she was powerful. I saw her move things with her mind.”

Claire swallowed through a tight throat. She could only imagine the anger and fear Jamie must be feeling, if he believed this to be true. And Claire could see in her husband’s eyes that he truly did. Her stomach sank.

“Dear God,” she said, shaking her head. “How long do you have before you have to…?”

His eyes went wide and he staggered back. “Ye canna think I would do this? Be unfaithful to ye and...”

“And you can’t think I’d let you die.” She gave him a look she knew he knew to take seriously. “How long?”

Jamie let out a breath, then turned his back to her, idly touching her jars of healing herbs. “The night of summer solstice is when... she said I’ll be... wanton for it, like a cat in heat.”

Claire leaned against the wall and proclaimed, “Jesus H Roosevelt Christ.” Her mind whirred through possibilities, like she was flipping through her old Rolodex and all the pages were blank save one. _Goddamn it all._

She sighed. “At least that should give you enough time to get to Lynchburg.”

Jamie turned from the herbs back to Claire. “Lynchburg? Why would I need to go to…” He blinked, then his face fell. “Christ, Claire. _No_.”

She frowned. “If you have a better plan, please do share.”

“Tie me up to a tree and leave me to die in the woods.”

Claire rolled her eyes, but then softened, a cloud of dark sadness settling over her. Of all the people in the world this wicked witch had to curse with this particularly wicked spell, it had to be her Jamie, who’d already been hurt in the worst ways too many times.

“After everything you’ve been through, I won’t try to make you,” she conceded. 

Claire watched her husband think and she knew him well enough to know at least most of what was in his mind. Likely all the things she had thought of as well. Her, Brianna and their grandchild. William. Maybe even John, in a way. And all the people who relied on them at the ridge.

“Ye are right, Sassenach. Ye are right as always.”

. . .

When Grey opened his front door, he could not believe his own eyes. “Jamie, my God, what are you doing here? Not that you’re not welcome…” he corrected himself. “I’m just surprised.”

Jamie blustered past him without asking to come in. “Is anyone else here?” his voice was husky. It sent old shivers down Grey’s spine.

“No... Jamie.” Grey blinked, taking a closer look at the man in the candlelight. Jamie’s eyes were ringed purple and his cheeks were flushed a deep crimson. “Are you alright? You look unwell.” 

Jamie yanked his own overcoat off, letting it fall to the floor, then he started working the buttons on his waistcoat with one hand, grabbing at the tie of his shirt with the other.

“What are you doing?” Grey asked.

“Need ye to take me,” Jamie replied, breathlessly. His waistcoat now the floor with his overcoat.

“Take you where?” Grey asked, brow furrowed. It was too dark to go anywhere and Jamie did not look up to traveling. The other man pulled his shirt up and over his head. 

_Need ye to take me._

Grey’s mouth dropped open as realization hit him like knee to the groin. “Sweet Jesus. You mean...”

Bare-chested before him, Jamie groaned. “It’s like fire under my skin. Christ. _Christ_ , John, make it stop.”

“Have you gone mad?”

“Witch.” He gasped for air, grabbing at the buttons on his breeches. “Curse. I’ll die if we dinna...”

“Don’t be hysterical. I won’t take you when you’re half out of your mind.”

“Ye and yer goddamn honor, John,” Jamie growled. “I’m not being hysterical. I truly will die unless we…” The scot dropped his breeches on the floor and was standing there before Grey in nothing but his drawers, his prick straining the thin fabric.

Jamie sprang forward and started wildly grabbing at Grey’s clothes. He’d barely sustained more than a slight touch from the man over the years and now his hands were goddamn everywhere.

_“Jamie.”_

He grabbed Grey’s forearms in a vice grip and stared him in the eyes. “I’ll explain it all when I can, just _please_. Every bone in my body feels like it’s breaking.”

Grey observed the man before him, visibly in pain. He didn’t exactly believe in curses and witches, but he couldn’t think of anything other than the strongest magic could have Jamie Fraser here in his home begging for Grey to have his way with him.

“What do you need?” Grey conceded.

“I need ye to bugger me, man.” The frustration was evident in Jamie’s voice. Was it frustration that he had to be here at all or frustration that Grey was taking so long to accept it, he didn’t know. Likely both.

“Well,” Grey said, half-believing he was in a dream. “Come upstairs then.”

Grey could scarcely believe this was truly happening. Jamie was completely naked now, and he was too. Jamie was laid out on Grey’s bedsheets, moaning and biting into his own wrists, the savory scent of oil filling the room. 

“Now, John. God, _now_. Stop making me wait."

Grey pressed two of his fingers deeper into Jamie’s warmth. “Whine all you want but I’ll be damned if I hurt you.”

Jamie made a noise of protest. The poor man was a sweaty, trembling disaster and his prick had been leaking like a fountain onto his stomach. Still, Grey wanted to make sure Jamie was open enough for him. He could not bear the thought of hurting the man in that way. 

He had been doing this for a while though, loosening the Scot with gentle, oil-soaked touches. Stealing up every once in a while to take that thick cock into his mouth. Jamie probably _was_ ready and he was already in quite a lot of pain from the effects of this so-called curse. Maybe it was worse on him to hold back.

“ _John,_ ” Jamie practically whimpered. 

“Fine,” Grey gave in. “Turn over.” He gently pushed on Jamie’s hip to encourage him to turn onto his stomach.

Jamie stiffened, as immovable as a boulder. “No.” The word was a command. “No. Not like that.”

“I’m sorry. I just figured you would rather not have to look at me while we… well.” Grey felt himself blush. He’d had his fingers up this man’s arse for a good half hour and this was what embarrassed him—the truth that Jamie was likely imagining someone else. He turned his head away.

Jamie put fingers on Grey’s chin, guided their eyes to meet. “I _need_ to look at you. To know it’s _you_ and... and no one else. We can do it face to face, can we no?”

Grey nodded, taking a deep breath. This was truly happening. “Yes, um, of course. Move back and pull up your knees.” 

This time Jamie, and all the naked miles of his warm skin, did as they were told. 

Grey gathered some more oil from the dish and spread it liberally over his own aching prick. He leaned forward between Jamie’s spread legs. “Tell me to stop anytime and I will.”

“I willna ask ye to stop.” Jamie said, with a mad laugh. As if Grey had no idea how badly he needed this. He did know though. Curse or not, Grey did know what it was to want someone so much you thought the want itself might kill you. 

“Just know you always can.” Grey needed Jamie to know that he was as safe and as cared for as he could be, under the circumstances. “Now, deep breath,” he said, then sank himself inside.

. . .

Jamie had a prick—John’s prick—in his arse, and he could he breathe without pain for the first time all day. The last eight hours of his journey here had been an ever-building storm of pain that had turned to something frantic and crushing by the time he’d finally made it to John’s doorstep. 

He needed this the way a man needed water or air.

To be… fucked. As Claire would say. But he couldn’t think of Claire now. He wouldn’t.

Now, it was no one but John. John buried in Jamie to his balls. John smelling like lemon rind and rosemary. John’s hellfire breath on his neck, those broken grunts in his ears. The feel of his fingernails scratching John’s muscular back, as he arched up into each powerful thrust. 

Christ, he truly was a like a cat in heat. 

As John sped up, Jamie could feel the familiar swell of his own impending climax and something else, like the sun breaking through clouds after a storm. It was almost over. For now, at least. Almost…

“God, I’m about to…” John said, then Jamie felt the strange rush of John start to pull out of him.

Instinctively, Jamie wrapped his legs around John to keep him from severing their connection. “No. Inside me. You have to… to make it stop. I can feel it.”

With a broken breath, John sank all the way back into him, and when the man found his pleasure, it was as deep inside Jamie as he could be. That flood of warmth was all it took for Jamie to take hold of his own release and for there to be nothing above or below or around him but the bluest sky. 

They were both naked beside each other on the bed, catching their breaths, soft cocks on their thighs. It tickled, John’s seed dripping back out of him, but he found he did not mind it much.

John looked over at him, an eyebrow raised. “You finished untouched.”

Jamie’s mouth curled. “I know I was rather… mad at the time, but I do recall being touched.”

John sat up, then looked down at him. “Your prick wasn’t.”

“Aye…” he realized the weight of John’s words. “I’ve never done that before.”

John’s eyes cast down to his stomach. “Jamie, this is... May I…?” He let out a hissed breath. “I’ve always wondered what you taste like.”

The reminder that this was not a curse for John, not a feeling and a want brought out by a powerful magic, but an expression of his true feeling… it should have angered him maybe, as it had before. And Jamie did search for the anger, looking under the rocks of his soul, just to find it had gone. It was… nice, he thought unexpectedly, to be so loved. Even though he could not return those feelings in the same way.

He nodded at John, who then swept two of his fingers through Jamie’s seed on his belly and sucked them into this mouth.

“So…?” Jamie asked with a tight throat.

John collapsed back on the bed, then looked over at him, grinning. “Like Christmas dinner.”Jamie just shook his head and let out a small laugh. 

A moment of companionable silence passed before John asked, “Are you sane enough to explain now why we just did that?”

. . .

Grey stared at the orange flames of the fire, thinking. Claire knew Jamie was here, getting served by John. Hell, she’d practically cooked up the idea. Still, he couldn’t imagine how he was going to look her in the eye the next time he saw her. However, that was problem for tomorrow. Tonight… according to Jamie… tonight wouldn’t be over until the moon was no longer in the sky.

“Wait so we get... _have_ …,” he said for Jamie’s benefit. It was ‘have to’ for him, “…to do this again?” 

Jamie laughed and it was a remarkable sound. “Aye, ye insatiable beast. We _get_ to do it again.”

The playful way Jamie said ‘get’ emboldened Grey. “Oh, I’m the insatiable beast, am I? You tore half the buttons off my waistcoat and…” he touched a sore spot at the base of his neck. “I think you bit me.”

Jamie tilted his head, looking pleased at his handiwork. 

Grey just shook his head in utter disbelief. “How long do you think it will…” Grey’s eyes drifted to the swelling cock between the other mans legs. “Christ, Jamie. Is your prick stiff _already_?”

“Aye,” Jamie said, casually relaxing back on the pillows with arm behind his head. “I reckon it is.”

“Does it hurt again ? Because I may I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but I still can’t perform again this quickly.”

Jamie gave him a cocky grin. “Ye _are_ an old man now, aren’t ye?”

“Not as old as you.”

“And no,” Jamie refocused. “It doesna hurt again. Not yet. Though I do think it might before yer able.”

“We could try… I’m not an expert in curses, but we could try it the other way round.”

“Ye offering to let me bugger ye?”

Grey snorted. “I’ve been offering that for over a decade.”

Jamie stood up from the bed, casually, all those rolling muscles exposed. “If I’d have known _that’s_ what ye were offering…” he teased.

Grey threw one of the pillows at Jamie. “Oh, shut it, Fraser.”

Jamie caught the pillow easily, one handed. Of course he did. Then, tossed it back at Grey.

Grey stood up himself. “Want a drink or something while we wait?”

“Aye,” Jamie said. “Whisky, if ye’ve got it.”

They had just short of an hour’s reprieve before Jamie was complaining of the ache and fever and want all over again. Grey was certainly not able yet and looking down at the size of the other man… he was getting a bit nervous.

“Do ye do this a lot?…” Jamie asked at the edge of the bed, slicking his prick with the oil. “Take it in the arse?”

“No.” Grey flushed hot at the words. “Not often. It’s not my preferred… position.”

Jamie dropped his slick hand down to his thigh and the man’s cock shone in the firelight. “I willna make ye do this. I can try yer mouth instead.”

Grey shut his eyes, imagining dropping to his knees in front of Jamie, licking the fragrant oil from thin, warm skin. _Delicious._

“No. I mean, we could do that too, but God, Jamie. This… with you. I want it. Badly.”

“Good. Come sit on it, then.” Jamie patted his thigh, and Grey’s mouth dropped open. “What? Ye ken I’m no some blushing virgin.”

“Yes, but goddamn,” Grey said, then did as the Scot commanded. 

It had been years on years since John Grey had felt so full. He tried to fight it, but he trembled, trying to let his body adjust, accept. He was only grateful that Jamie was keeping still, yet he could see in his face it was taking all the will he had.

“I’m sorry, John.” He stroked his knuckles down Grey’s spine, another surprise. “I canna hold back much longer.”

“It’s… _Jesus_.” Grey squeezed his eyes shut. It would be okay. Even if it hurt, even if it hurt a lot, it wouldn’t be the worst pain he’d ever had and he’d give himself to Jamie, no matter the cost. “Whatever you need, take it.”

And Jamie did. Strong, nearly brutal. Grey was trembling, his eyes watering. It was _so_ much and then it happened… just like _that…_ suddenly, somehow, Grey was open to the man, his body yielding easily now.Soft, pliant, living clay to be molded and remolded however Jamie Fraser saw fit. He was in a state he had never been in before—complete surrender. 

“You said I could take what I need?” Jamie was asking permission for something, Grey could tell, but what? He didn’t know.

“I’m not sure what else is left of me,” Grey admitted. “But yes.”

Jamie cupped Grey’s cheek and, for the first time that evening, for the first time since Helwater, Jamie kissed him.

_Ah,_ Grey thought helplessly, _that’s what was left._

. . .

The rest of the evening passed in sweaty, carnal bliss. Buggering John had given Jamie some relief, but not nearly the amount of relief that being taken had given him. They did that as often as John could manage, which was far more than Jamie could’ve on a normal evening. He was rather impressed with his friend’s stamina. And Jamie found he didn’t hate the feel of a prick in his mouth, either, at least not John’s prick, and that it was especially nice when they would lie on their sides and pleasure each other that way at the same time. 

He felt the grip of the magic slip away just as his own cock would slip out of John for the last time. It was the only time either one of them had taken the other from behind. They had been resting and talking and Jamie had been finding delight in connecting the sunspots on John’s back in rude shapes with his finger. When Jamie had found himself hard again, he hadn’t thought much of it nor said a word, he just slid himself inside.

They still hadn’t moved, and it had been nearly five minutes. His own seed was dripping out of John and onto his thigh, but he didn’t want to move.

“The sun is coming up.” John whispered. “I reckon it might be over then.”

Jamie kept drawing those lines between the marks on the man’s shoulders. “I ken. It is.”

“ _Oh_.” John’s voice was small and he tucked away from Jamie’s touched.

Jamie frowned, putting a hand on his shoulder. “John, man, would ye look at me?”

At first, John didn’t move, but eventually, he turned and Jamie saw what he had been hiding—wet, glistening eyes. “Sorry, I… damn it all. I’m fine.” He wiped at his face with the back of his hands. “Just tell me you don’t hate me now?”

“I dinna hate you.” An easy truth to tell.

John nodded, then slid off the bed. “I should get dressed, so you don’t have to see—”

“John, stop,” Jamie said, forcefully. His gaze drifting down to take in the masculine frame before him. Even without the power of the witch’s magic, Jamie could not deny that John was truly handsome man. “I dinna mind your body. I ken it well after last night.” He stood up and walked over to John. He ran his hands up the man’s solid forearms to his broad shoulders dotted by those lovely spots.

John’s eyes were wide, his breath coming in sharp and loud. “Jamie, what are you…? I thought you said it was over.”

He touched the still blooming bite mark on John’s neck. _Mine,_ he thought stupidly. “I did and it is. I canna serve ye again—I _am_ actually an old man—but I can still do this. I want to.” 

Jamie closed the remaining distance between them and covered John’s mouth with his own. It gave him a surprised start and he thought of when he was a child at Lallybroch and how he and Jenny would rub their stockings on the rugs until they could touch each other with blue sparks. 

When they pulled back for air, Jamie made a decision. “There’s something else I dinna tell ye. I wasna sure how I would feel after, but… the curse, it will happen again. Next summer solstice and I was wondering if we could, next year as well.”

John’s mouth dropped and his lips spread into an astonished. “This was not the only time I will have you?”

“Not if ye still want me.”

John stroked Jamie’s cheek with the back of his hand and it was all blue sparks. 

“I’ll always want you, Jamie Fraser,” John said. “But I think you know that.”

“Aye,” Jamie replied, thinking _mine_ again. “Aye, I do.”

Jamie didn’t leave right after. He stayed to visit his friend for a few days, rest and see some of Lynchburg. They played chess and drank at the tavern. They talked of Willie and argued Greek and Roman military strategy. At night, they retired to separate beds in separate rooms, but when it was time for Jamie to go, he found Grey’s mouth with own again.

“To hold ye over till next year,” Jamie said, and then he was gone.


End file.
